


Curious Incidents

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Creature!Crowley, M/M, nachtalb!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17643041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: The last thing Dean expected was to develop a crush on the literal emobodiment of his life-long insomnia. Drowley.





	Curious Incidents

**Six months ago**

He couldn’t sleep again. This had been a problem for years, if he was being honest; but normally, it had abated eventually, allowing him to get some rest.

This bout of insomnia, however, had already lasted several weeks – fifty-seven days in fact, but he liked to pretend that he’d got some shut-eye in better if only for Sam’s sake – and it didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon.

He sighed and got up to make himself a cup of tea.

He certainly did not expect to see a bearded man in what appeared to be an Armani suit sitting in his kitchen, drinking what was his best Craig, and he blinked to make sure it wasn’t a hallucination. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I am quite real, even if you are the only mortal who can see me at present” he drawled, downing his glass. “I was wondering when you’d get up. I don’t like to fetch people from their beds. They grow so irritated when I do.”

Dean shook his head. He was too tired for this. “Look, if you want to knock me out and rob me, can we get it over with? I’d least I’d be unconscious then:”

“Oh I am afraid that is not an option” the man said. “You see, the name’s Crowley, and I am a Nachtalb. Specifically, _your_ nachtalb.”

“Nachtalb?” Dean said, frowning, then his half-forgotten German came back to him. “Night – alp?”

“Ah, someone with a brain, that will make this faster.”

“But – “ Dean sighed. “Forget it. Just tell me what you want, I am really not in the mood – “

“Right to the point. Excellent.” He drained his glass. “Here’s the thing; you suffer from insomnia, and I’m here to ensure this will lead to insanity and death rather sooner than later.”

And that was how Dean Winchester learned that Nachtalbs lived from the years they took from their victims… and more importantly, that they could store them and bring them to their boos because yes, Crowley had a boss, a rather nasty Nachtalb called Lilith, apparently.

He would have believed he had already gone insane, but Crowley pestering him the rest of the night so he couldn’t even try to sleep soon robbed him of that notion.

**Present time**

“Dean? I just asked you a question.”

He blinked. Right, Sammy had been talking. He brought his right hand up to rub his face and replied, “Sorry.” He didn’t bother to hide the tiredness in his voice. His brother wouldn’t have believed him anyway.

Dean did his best to avoid his worried gaze, but there was little he could do to hide the fact that his sleeplessness had gotten a lot worse in the past year or so.

That said, there were a few things he couldn’t tell Sam. Because – well –

He got his death six months ago.

He had not gotten bad news from his doctor though. Oh no, if that had been it, he would have told Sam immediately. Would have let him know that perhaps they should bang a few gongs in Vegas before the lights went out.

No.

Dean was one of those lucky sons of bitches who got their medical news from supernatural creatures, apparently.

He’d never paid them much attention. They were, after all, just a fact of life; and they didn’t seem to require schooling, so there was little a high school history teacher could do for them.

Unfortunately, this oversights in his own education had led to him being completely blindsided by a certain development.

And so he now lived with a Nachtalb who had the job to drive him insane and kill him by simply making sure he wasn’t sleeping.

The worst part of it – or the best, Dean couldn’t decide – was that Crowley was actually good company, or at least not bad one. Sure, he did give him nightmares if he managed to fall asleep against all odds (although now that he thought about it, he hadn’t had any bad dreams in a while) and he made noises in the night so Dean would have even more difficulty relaxing than was already the case, but other than that…

First of all, he had to admit that the guy was pretty easy on the eyes, or at least didn’t look like he would have imagined a monster to look like.

And then – well, the guy was well-read, could actually eb funny and charming if he wanted to be, and listening to him complaining about Lilith was surprisingly entertaining.

Yes, Dean Winchester might have developed a small crush on the Nachtalb who had been sent to give him the coup de grace, but really, wasn’t that better than be annoyed during his last few months of sanity?

* * *

 

After he had tried and failed to convince Sam during their whole dinner that he was doing fine, Dean came home and expected Crowley to already eb there to make a nuisance of himself.

To his surprise, the place was empty, and he sank down on the sofa. Maybe he could just close his eyes for a moment without being roughly awakened or being given nightmares by the Nachtalb…

He did wake up from a crash coming from his kitchen, but to his surprise, it was past eleven pm, meaning he’d slept for almost four hours. “Are you losing your touch?” he asked, walking into the room, and seeing that Crowley had dropped a few pans. Not exactly subtle, but effective, he’d give him that.

“No, I was in a meeting with Lilith” he said, sounding annoyed.

“Oh? She give you an employee of the month award?”

“What do you think?”

“Well I don’t –“

“Are you insane or dead yet?”

“You could ask my brother, I think he’d agree with the first one.”

“Even if that were true, you’re not nearly mad enough. She doesn’t understand that these things take their time.”

“Well” Dean drawled, deciding he might as well have a little fun while slowly dying of sleep depravation, “you can be really annoying when you want to be, but I have to admit you were more of a pest in the beginning.”

Crowley threw him a dirty glare. “Do you really want me to be reassigned?”

No. That was the last thing he wanted. Part of him knew that Crowley was an evil bastard, but whoever would replace him could only be worse.

Plus, they probably wouldn’t be as much a worthy opponent at chess.

“No. So what, should I try to go insane and die faster?” He was in a rather good mood since he’d actually slept, but since Crowley must just have arrived and didn’t know how long he’d been snoozing, he should probably try and hide that.

“Don’t worry, I talked my way out of it” Crowley said smugly, although there was a tension in hiss shoulders that Dean hadn’t seen there before.

“Good. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

“You are always hungry, and I don’t need to eat.”

“Yeah, well” Dean, whose appetite had been restored by the rest he’d gotten, started rummaging though the fridge, “Just wanted to be polite.”

And that was how he and a Nachtalb ended up sharing French toast in his kitchen in the middle of the night.

* * *

 

After that, the whole slowly slipping into insanity somewhat became… fun. Due to being called in to meetings at all hours (or at least so Crowley claimed), he couldn’t be at his side the whole time and he ended up taking quite a few naps. They were not enough to replace the sleep he hadn’t gotten, but he felt some of his strength returning.

Crowley, meanwhile, seemed to play the long game. Or at least he had apparently decided that he’d play nice for now. Dean didn’t doubt that there was something nasty waiting for him down the line, but at least Crowley made considerably less noises at night, the nightmares had all but stopped, and he’d grown used to coming home to find him just reading to watching TV:

It really felt rather like having a roommate.

“You know, I don’t feel like I’m going mad” he told him one night. He was once again inflicting Doctor Sexy on Crowley, who usually claimed that he could “feel it rotting” his brain and yet always stayed at his side of the sofa.

“That’s the best part of it. The victim doesn’t realize.”

“But my colleagues would, and my students, not to mention Sam. So I don’t –“

“Who is the expert on insanity here?”

He raised his hands. “Just saying, man. You know, so you don’t get chewed out by your boss again.”

For a moment, there was something like fondness in Crowley’s eyes, then he looked away. “Humans” he muttered to himself.

“Nachtalbs” Dean shot back. It might not have been the best of comebacks, but still.

* * *

 

Soon after that, it all went to shit. Not that Dean was surprised. He had known it was coming, after all.

But still –

He burst into the kitchen. “Can’t you be silent for give minutes? That’s all I ask.”

“Sorry darling” Crowley drawled, waving a hand and causing all the plates in his cupboard to fall out, “I was told to step up my game. Nothing I can do.”

Dean rubbed his face and sighed.

* * *

 

Within a week, it had become impossible to hide his state of health from his brother or colleagues, Even his students were extraordinarily well behaved. That was how bad he looked.

The one weird thing was that, despite Crowley keeping him up all night, his nightmares hadn’t returned during the few minutes of sleep he managed to catch now and then.

In the grand scheme of things, that didn’t make much of a difference, though.

That evening when he came home, he had trouble keeping himself upright.

Crowley was there, of course, as always.

“If you just a further five minutes” Dean slurred slightly, letting himself fall down on the sofa, “I am rather sure I’ll be getting on with that insanity thing”.

“Yes. About that –“

“Hm?” Dean blinked, trying to keep his heavy eyes open. His eyelids felt like lead.

“I made you tea” Crowley suddenly announced, and it was surprising enough that Dean sat up, for a second wide awake.

“What?”

“I made you tea” he repeated.

There had to be a catch, of course. There usually was, when Crowley was involved. But Dean was desperate enough for rest that even slipping into madness sounds like a good idea. Or at least one that will allow him to sleep. “What did you put in there?” he asked.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“I’m too tired for you to be cryptic” he muttered.

“Something rather unpleasant for one of us, then.”

“Wonder who that is.”

“Are you going to drink it or not?”

“Fine. Gimme.”

Somehow, he managed to sip the tea while sitting upright, although he started slipping down the sofa eventually, encountering a warm, solid, rather comfortable mass. He tried to ask but only managed a drowsy mumble.

Later he would wonder if it had been a hallucination, but warm fingers started carding through his hair. “Hush, darling. Just relax.”

How a certain someone managed to make even those words sound sarcastic he would never know, but Dean was already sinking into oblivion and couldn’t bring himself to care.

* * *

 

“Dean? Dean!”

He was rather sure that insistent voice had been yapping at him for a while now, and that he’d just manged to ignore it until this very moment; he was rather tempted to continue to do so.

“Dean!” Someone was shaking his shoulder. He moaned as he rolled over. “What!?”

“What do you mean, what? Your boss couldn’t reach you, neither could Charlie or any of your other colleagues, and it’s gone twelve!”

He sat up, wide awake, blinking at his alarm. “Must have slept through it.”

“I’d say.” Then, Sam relaxed. “At least you did sleep.”

“Yeah” he said, feeling rather confused. Crowley had been right there. Why would he not only let him fall asleep, but allow him to rest for – he quickly did the math – for almost sixteen hours?

It was a question he would look an answer for in weeks and months to come, since from the moment he woke up, Crowley was nowhere to be found.

Even if he never admitted to himself that he was looking for him in the first place.

**Six months later**

It happened when he least expected it. He was walking down a Boulevard a few streets away from his apartment when a voice he never thought he’d hear again grumbled, “I don’t know why you people always make such a fuss about it. Sleeping bloody _sucks_.”

He reeled around to find one of the innumerable homeless of the city, only that he recognized this particular one. “Crowley?”

“Yes. I decided to spare one human and they punish me by turning me into one” he muttered. “You’re welcome.”

“But – you – how long have you been –“

“Ever since I was ordered back to base after you fell asleep that night” he shrugged and Dean recognized the expression on his face. Crowley was exhausted and hungry, too exhausted to lie. That might have been the only reason he even spoke to Dean in the first place. Otherwise he’d never have known Crowley was out there struggling to make ends meet –

Dean made a decision. In one smooth motion, he grabbed the rucksack that was lying next to the steps Crowley was sitting on. “Come on. You are coming back to my place.”

* * *

 

He didn’t give Crowley any time to protest. He simply herded him back to his place and told him to take a shower while he cooked.

Crowley was far from the talkative Nachtalb he’d grown to – know during his insomniac days. He’d obviously not found the human experience particularly rewarding, and he was famished. Small wonder.

Dean put him to bed in the spare room soon after that and did not spend a few minutes watching him sleep and wondering how he had come to miss him so much.

Well. At least he didn’t admit to himself that he did it, and no one could prove otherwise.

* * *

 

Dean was making coffee the next morning when Crowley came into the kitchen wearing the clothes he’d lent him the previous day. “I slept trough the night” he said, sounding incredulous.

“And a good morning to you, too” Dean replied cheerfully.

“I mean – why?”

“Because you slept in a decent bed for once? How am I supposed to –“

“You could have done what I would have a year ago and –“

“Wait, are you thinking I took you in to torture you!?” Now it was Dean’s turn to sound incredulous.

“It was the most logical explanation” Crowley said, and Dean wondered if anyone had been nice to the guy since he turned human. Maybe not. People didn’t tend to be very nice to the homeless.

“Well, I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?”

“Yesterday, you said you spared a human” he said simply. “Unless you happened to be working two jobs at once, that’s me. I did wonder why I so suddenly fell asleep with no problems.”

“No problems” Crowley muttered to himself. “Wouldn’t be so cocky if he had had to find the mandrake root for the tea himself, would he.”

Dean grinned. “So I was right.”

“I –“ Crowley stopped, then breathed, “Sod it all. Yes, you green-eyed menace, you are right. I did make sure you’d fall asleep that evening, and every night thereafter if you wanted to. And I got punished for my troubles. Happy now?”

“More confused” Dean admitted. “Why would you…” And then he trailed off when he realized.

Crowley wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“What –“

“It wasn’t just that I let you sleep” he suddenly blurted out. “I could probably have gotten away with that. There is, in fact, only one offense that can a Nachtalb being turned human.”

“And what would that be? Because not doing your job sounds pretty damn bad to me –“

And then, Crowley drew himself up to his full height (which still wouldn’t have been very impressive but was rather helped by his good looks, although Dean refused to allow himself to be distracted) and looked him right in the eye as he announced, “No Nachtalb worth the name has ever done something out of love.”

He had probably done his best to sound angry and spiteful but hadn’t quite managed it, thought Dean. It happened when one was in love.

This, he knew very well, could go many ways now.

Although there was one crazier than all the others.

After all, who would even contemplate reciprocating the feelings of someone who had quite literally tried to kill him last year?

The nutty professor who was Dean Winchester, that was who.

“So you’re in love with me?” he asked.

“Feel free to laugh”. Now that he’d gotten it off his chest, Crowley seemed to have regained his usual bravado, but Dean sensed there was rather a lot of insecurity hiding under that smile.

“I don’t know” he said, stepping up to him, “Actually, I feel like doing something rather mad. You must have done a good job after all.”

“Is that so?” Crowley asked, looking up at him. “Well, in that case, I can go back and tell Lilith –“

Dean dragged him into a kiss. “Don’t you dare” he mumbled against his lips. “Remember, I am stuck with you now.”

**Three months later**

Establishing an identity for someone who hadn’t had one for centuries before he turned human was easier said than done. Thank God for a certain red-haired IT teacher Dean was good friends with.

It also meant that he could finally introduce his boyfriend to Sammy.

After greeting them in the same diner they usually had their weekly lunches in, He began with, “Dean has been so secretive about you! How did you meet?”

“Ah” Dean said as Crowley squeezed his thigh under the table while having obvious trouble not to laugh, “That’s kind of an interesting story.”


End file.
